Wildflower
by Stevie Jazz
Summary: She was from no ordinary garden. He could easily understand that. What he had little insight on is just how she found her way into a parallel world.
1. Chapter 1

**EDITED 8/3/2013**

**Please do review and follow! Constructive criticism and feedback welcome! **

She was a wildflower. From the moment her mother held her in her arms she could sense that she was from no ordinary garden. Her parents could see the greatness in her that would one day come. As her guardians and protectors they made a silent vow to encourage young Alice to always have strength and an open mind to live out her dreams.

Just as her namesake had, young Alice possessed an active imagination rivaled by no other her age. As most children viewed the world as it was presented on a map, flat and unappealing, Alice saw the wonder of earth in each mystifying element of nature.

Most children enjoyed learning about astronomy mostly for the stars held a majestic quality about them, but Alice differed from her peer. Though she recognized their beauty, Alice wished to learn of what lived among the stars. Her peers laughed at her and her teachers discouraged her theories, but her parents never did. Both being college professors, her mother teaching women's studies and her father teaching fantasy literature, her parents encouraged her to question everything and never assess something simply on face value.

Even as Alice walked home under the steely gray sky, a color so ashen it matched her own silver eyes, she did not feel hatred or bitterness towards her classmates that drove by her, laughing at her predicament. Rather, she assumed they laughed just to brighten their days, which could have been much worse than her own.

Alice always did this, giving her peers the benefit of the doubt and assuming the best of people.

"Hey Alice," the girl looked to her left seeing that Kate, a kind classmate of hers, had pulled her car over so that she could speak to Alice. "Would you like a ride home? It looks like it might flood any second now!"

Alice had always loved to walk home for she lived close enough to her school that to drive would only be a waste of gas. The only times that her passion for conservation diminished were in moments like these, where a few minutes of rain may cause water to seep through her backpack, destroying all of her books and classwork. She was thankful for someone as considerate as Kate.

Alice eagerly nodded before taking her seat on the passenger's side. She placed her bag at her feet and buckled her seatbelt before turning to the blonde behind the drivers wheel.

"So, where do you live?" Kate asked, her stormy blue eyes looked both left and right multiple times as they approached a stop sign.

"Just take a right here, then a left by the big oak tree and I'm the fifth house on the right. It's not too far from here." Alice's light soprano voice contrasted that of Kate's alto.

"Alright! I can do that!" She spoke with a smile, exposing a dimple beside her perfect smile on her round face.

"Thank you for the ride, Kate, you really saved my books."

"Oh it's no problem. Besides that's what friends are for, right?"

This word was new to Alice. She had never really had any friends before. She found that people were nice enough, but no one really wanted to associate with someone who's head was so far up in the stars that she didn't have time to place her feet on the ground.

The thought of having a friend in Kate was a pleasant one, so Alice let a small grin set on her full lips.

"Of course." She nodded.

Kate returned the grin as she turned left at the tree.

"Alright, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5!" She pulled into the driveway and placed the car into park.

"This the place?" Her eyes scanned the house. It was cute in a cookie-cutter way with it's powder blue exterior, white trimming, and the small garden set in front of the porch.

Alice simply nodded in response.

"I like it. Well, looks like we beat the rain!" Just as Kate said this, a light sprinkle of rain began to patter against her red camery's surface. "But you might want to hurry inside because I'm afraid I might have spoken too soon." Alice again nodded and gathered her belongings, preparing herself for a quick dash to her front door. "I'll see you Monday!"

"Thanks, again!" Alice chirped before quickly making it to her front door. She turned to wave to Kate as she used her key to let herself in.

Once inside, Alice passed through her living room to head straight to her blush and white decorated room. She placed her backpack down on her vintage white vanity, kicked her red TOMs into her closet before sprawling out onto her plush bed, causing her long ash blonde hair to fan out and away from her face. One dainty alabaster hand reached out to pluck a wavy lock from in front of her eyes.

After taking a moment of silence to listen to the soft lullaby of the rain, Alice jumped to her feet and began working on her last bit of homework. Next week would be her final exams, and then her high school graduation. Then after a summer of languid relaxation she would attend the University of Louisiana in the fall.

A mood of excitement set over Alice as she worked through her last bit of government work. The summer was always her favorite time of year. Despite the humidity and heavy rainfall that occurs in Baton Rouge at this time of year, the summer season meant freedom for Alice so that she may lay in the grass along the river, or upon a tree and read a novel or two with no interruptions.

With the last of her homework placed neatly in her binder and into her bag, Alice chose to start her weekend by watching a bit of television. Normally she didn't wish to spend her nights in front of it, but she felt inclined to watch a bit of "Doctor Who" this evening, a show that she felt brilliantly questioned the world and beyond.

As she began her third episode for the night, her parents entered the house through the garage door.

"Honey, we're home!" Alice's father's voice rang throughout the house. Alice paused the show before entering the kitchen where her parents were unloading groceries. Lending a hand, she made idle chat with her parents.

"How were your days?"

"Oh quite good. I've just about finished planning my summer semester's workload!" Her mother responded cheerfully.

"I had to do a bit of schmoozing with the dean for the continuation of my Harry Potter course, but other than that, not bad." Her father, Arthur, spoke.

"Well, at least the course will be there for when I attend!"

"I'll have you know that if you're in my course I will treat you just the same as my other students. You're just the same as them." Arthur deadpanned as the family looked at each other silently before they burst into fits of laughter. It had been a joke in the family to consider any one of them normal or ordinary. They were a family of the abnormal.

"We were thinking of ordering in tonight. What do you think? Chinese?" Her mother, Jane, suggested after they calmed themselves.

"That's just fine. If I could have the chicken lo mein then I'll be happy." Alice consented.

"One chicken lo mein coming right up!" Arthur spoke, lifting the phone to his ear after dialing. "The sweet and sour chicken for you, dear?" Jane nodded fondly to her husband. "Ah, yes, I'd like to place an order for delivery."

As her father ordered their food, Alice returned to the living area and pressed play on her latest episode. As she sat enthralled in the television series she had seen multiple times over, she ignored the ominous sounds of the storm brewing outside her home.

"Alice?" Jane called.

"Ma'am?" Alice responded respectively.

"What would you like to drink, dear?"

"May I have a Coke, please?"

Moments later Jane stepped into the room with a cold can of the sugary soda for her daughter.

"Here you are, dear."

"Thank you, Mom!" Alice spoke, distracted by her show, as her mother left the room.

The doorbell rang just as Alice finished her third episode. As her father paid the delivery man, Alice took the warm bag of food into the kitchen before sorting each meal. As her father passed she handed him his general tso's chicken meal before he disappeared into the study. Jane retrieved her meal as well before joining her husband. Alice simply grabbed her carton of food, her chopsticks, and napkins before returning to watch another episode of the addicting show.

By the time Alice finished her seventh episode, her parents had already gone to bed. Choosing to follow in their example, Alice turned off the television and went to her room. Grabbing a pair of black leggings and an old Nirvana shirt of her fathers, Alice performed her nightly tasks of washing her face and brushing her teeth before changing and settling into her cozy bed.

Her consciousness began to escape her as the minutes passed by. Just as she was on the edge of sleep, a lightning bolt struck just outside her large window. It was so bright and so close that its light shown through her closed eyes. Just seconds later, the thunder sounded throughout the night sky in a volume so loud her floors shook.

Alice had never been afraid of thunderstorms. Growing up in Baton Rouge meant that she was accustomed to them. To be honest, nothing really seemed to set fear in Alice. Yet, as Alice's eyes drifted to her vanity mirror her heart sank. Through the reflection she saw her yard through her window. A blur of color disappeared into the bushes, a sight she might dismiss as a delusion induced by exhaustion, but the rustling of the bushes proved unsettling.

Alice didn't like the fear she currently felt. The only way to eliminate the issue was to address. She decided she must confront her fears and pursue the blur.

Mindlessly, she rose from her bed. She slipped on a pair of beaten black converse and stepped from her room quietly. She followed the path her hallway led to the living room and approached the french doors leading to her backyard. The rain was progressively strengthening. Despite this, Alice stepped onto her patio and swiftly approached the bushes adjacent to her bedroom window. The large tree nearby provided a canopy shielding her from the rain, but this proved superfluous. She was already soaked.

She stepped closer to the bushes. Her eyes ran across its' leaves trying to find some sort of disturbance or evidence from the blur that hid in her shrubbery. She bent over the plants, attempting to gain a better look at the dark expanse of her neighbors yard, again looking for more evidence.

After a thorough search, Alice felt satisfied. It was all a trick of the mind.

Suddenly another large crack of lightning struck behind her, making her jump and quickly turning.

The view through her window, into her vanity mirror once again, was horrifying.

To her horror a crack spanned across the entire length of the wall. Light seemed to expel from it, but it was still too thin to see anything within the crack.

Setting quickly into action, Alice ran into her home, effectively soaking herself once again. Her fear and curiosity drove her to open the door forcefully, not bothering to close it, and run to her bedroom, her wet shoes tracking mud onto the plush beige carpet. She again pushed the door open with zero abandonment.

The crack was even more frightening when looked at directly. Dread filled her. An urge to run flared throughout her veins. Yet, she was grossly curious and continued to approach it.

Alice was not sure what compelled her to do so, but she placed her ear beside the wall, just below the crack, conscience not to touch it.

Come, Alice. This is where you belong. This is home.

She quickly pulled herself away from the wall.

Alice had always believed that there are things in the world that one just can't explain. But this was unfathomable.

She was a smart girl. An imaginative girl. A brave girl. Even though this could kill her, or could be nothing at all, Alice had to touch it. Her parents encouraged an inquisitive spirit in her, so how is this not the same?

As her eloquent hand reached out she took in a ragged breath before making contact with the crack.

She felt the strongest tug in her lifetime pull at her body before everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**EDITED 8/3/2013**

**Please review and follow! Constructive criticism and feedback is welcome!**

Deep in my slumber, I awake to a sound. It's a sound like no other. It could be described as a wheezing. Such a sound it was that I could only register it's owner to be that of a fictional, time traveling, and living space craft.

I quickly dismiss this thought as I will my eyes to flutter open.

My eyes are met with a dark hall. I feel the carpet beneath my fingers as I push myself up. Around me are several display cases filled with random artifacts.

I feel my down my arms and legs, checking for injury. I'm no longer soaked, I notice. My clothes and hair were now dry, and my shoes, though dry, became even dirtier thanks to my late night excursion.

"So what is it? What's wrong?"

I'd know that voice anywhere.

"Don't know. Some kind of signal drawing the Tardis off course."

It can't be...

"Where are we?"

I do my best to quickly hide behind a large display case as I realize they will soon turn the light on.

"Earth. Utah, North America. About half a mile underground." The Doctor replies.

"And when are we?"

"Two thousand and twelve."

I hear the Doctor begin to look around and examine the room.

"God, that's so close. So I should be twenty six."

The lights switch on. I realize, in my haste, that my legs were not fully hidden. I quickly pull them to my chest.

Bad choice.

"What was that?" Rose's voice was frantic in her alarm. I bit my knuckles, hoping to nullify the sound of my breathing.

"Who's there?"

Never hide from an alien, I suppose.

I silently curse myself. I hesitantly rise from my spot, step forward, and raise my hands in a defensive pose.

"I mean you no harm!" I state, humbly.

Despite hearing them talk just moments ago, seeing two characters from a favorite show of mine is quite mystifying. Rose stands strong next to the Doctor. I can already see it in her eyes how much she cares for the Doctor. He simply stands there, his eyes narrowed on me, his stance defensive, clad in his leather jacket.

His stubborn stare begins to make me antsy, yet I know better than to move.

His eyes instantly brighten, his smile returns to his face. "Alice!"

My brow instantly furrows at this. He knows my name. The look in his eye is one of warmth, kindness, and friendship. I know the Doctor, and this version of him does not feel so warmly about many others.

As I stand there motionless with every possibility of what happened running through my head, Rose and the Doctor continued in as if this were routine.

"Blimey. It's a great big museum." Rose says as she and the Doctor look around.

"An alien museum. Someone's got a hobby. They must have spent a fortune on this. Chunks of meteorite, moon dust. That's the milometer from the Roswell spaceship." The Doctor replies.

"That's a bit of Slitheen! That's a Slitheen's arm. It's been stuffed."

"Oh, look at you." As the Doctor says this, he approaches the display I had just sat behind. As he stares in awe at it's artifact, he grabs my hand. Honestly, I'm thrilled that this fictional character I love is touching me, but I'm even more confused now. I stare at our hands. His is quite large in comparison to mine. I then stare at him. I draw the same conclusion about our heights, though I am of average height.

"What is it?"

"An old friend of mine." He squeezes my hand, not actually looking at me. "Well, enemy. The stuff of nightmares reduced to an exhibit. I'm getting old."

"Is that where the signal's coming from?"

"No, it's stone dead. The signal's alive. Something's reaching out, calling for help."

Using his free hand, the Doctor touches the display case and an alarm goes off. Armed guards then rush into the room.

"If someone's collecting aliens, that makes you Exhibit A."

The guards escort us inevitably to Van Statten, a man I've never formally met, but already hate. The entire way the Doctor never let my hand go. I kept my eyes to the ground, allowing him to lead me. Every so often I'd feel his eyes on me. I knew he saw there was something wrong with me.

"And this is the last. Paid eight hundred thousand dollars for it."

Goddard leads us into the room.

"What does it do?" Van Statten asks.

"Well, you see the tubes on the side? It must be to channel something. I think maybe fuel."

"I really wouldn't hold it like that." The Doctor interupts.

"Shut it." Goddard interjects.

"Really, though, that's wrong."

"Is it dangerous?" Adam asks, concerned.

"No, it just looks silly." At this I giggle, earning a bright smile from the Doctor. He then lets my hand go and reaches for the item, and firing bolts click all around him. Van Stratton hands him the object. "You just need to be delicate." He plays several different notes, all lovely, bringing a smile to my face.

"It's a musical instrument." Van Statten states.

"And it's a long way from home."

"Here, let me." His strokes are harsh, influencing harsh sounds to be produced.

"I did say delicate. It reacts to the smallest fingerprint. It needs precision." Van Statten's strokes soften. "Very good. Quite the expert."

"As are you." He then tosses it aside, onto the floor. "Who exactly are you?"

"I'm the Doctor. And who are you?"

"Like you don't know. We're hidden away with the most valuable collection of extra-terrestrial artefacts in the world, and you just stumbled in by mistake."

"Pretty much sums me up, yeah." Again, I giggle.

"The question is, how did you get in? Fifty three floors down, with your little cat burglar accomplices. You're quite a collector yourself, they're both rather pretty." His excuse for a compliment disturbs me greatly. The Doctor saw the effect of his phrase and grabbed my hand for comfort.

"She's going to smack you if you keep calling her she." I've never felt so thankful for Rose.

"She's English too! Hey, little Lord Fauntleroy. Got you a girlfriend." I scowled at Van Statten for that, causing him to raise his brow at me.

"This is Mister Henry Van Statten." Adam speaks.

"And who's he when he's at home? Rose replies, clearly not impressed.

"Mister Van Statten owns the internet."

"Don't be stupid. No one owns the internet."

"And let's just keep the whole world thinking that way, right kids?" I'm quickly becoming tired of Van Statten's arrogance.

"So you're just about an expert in everything except the things in your museum. Anything you don't understand, you lock up." The Doctor clearly doesn't like Van Statten.

"And you claim greater knowledge?"

"I don't need to make claims, I know how good I am."

"And yet, I captured you. Right next to the Cage. What were you doing down there?"

"You tell me."

"The cage contains my one living specimen." The Dalek.

"And what's that?"

"Like you don't know."

"Show me." The Doctors words are a challenge.

"You want to see it?"

"Blimey, you can smell the testosterone." Rose mutters to me. At this, I smile a warm grin to her, earning her characteristic teeth and tongue smile in return.

"Goddard, inform the Cage we're heading down. You, English. Look after the English girl. Go and canoodle or spoon or whatever it is you British do. And you two, Doctor with no name and girlfriend, come and see my pet." Van Statten leads the the Doctor and I to the cage. "We've tried everything. The creature has shielded itself but there's definite signs of life inside."

"Inside? Inside what?"

"Welcome back, sir. I've had to take the power down. The Metaltron is resting." Simmons interrupts.

"Metaltron?"

"Thought of it myself. Good, isn't it?" I scoff at this. The glare I receive from Van Statten burns my skin. "Although I'd much to prefer to find out it's real name."

"Here, you'd better put these on. The last guy that touched it burst into flames." The Doctor refused what Simmons offered him.

"I won't touch it then."

"Go ahead, Doctor. Impress me." Van Statten says confidently as the Doctor steps through the heavy door. "Don't open that door until we get a result."

"You can't do that!" Van Statten ignores my cries and goes to a desk with monitors on it. "Stop! This is inhumane!" I cry to Goddard who ignores me as well.

I try opening the door, but he is locked inside. I look for something, anything, to get him out.

"Look, I'm sorry about this. Mister Van Statten might think he's clever, but never mind him. I've come to help. I'm the Doctor."

"DOCTOR?"

"Impossible." He mutters.

"THE DOCTOR? EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!" The Doctor hammers on the door.

"Let me out!"

"EXTERMINATE!"

"Please! Please just let him out!" I shout at his pounding becomes more vigorous and alarming.

"Sir, it's going to kill him." Goddard states.

"It's talking!" Van Statten exclaims.

"You disgust me! You'd allow an innocent man to die just to hear an alien talk?" Rage is not an emotion I've truly felt before, but as I speak, the emotion oozes from my voice.

"Yes!" Van Statten's answer is so smug, I have to resist slapping him. I instead choose to stomp on his foot with my own.

"YOU ARE AN ENEMY OF THE DALEKS! YOU MUST BE DESTROYED!"

"It's not working." The Doctor laughs. "Fantastic! Oh, fantastic! Powerless! Look at you. The great space dustbin. How does it feel?"

"KEEP BACK!" The Doctor ignores his order and stands inches away, staring into its eyepiece.

"What for? What're you going to do to me? If you can't kill, then what are you good for, Dalek? What's the point of you? You're nothing. What the hell are you here for?"

"I AM WAITING FOR ORDERS!"

"What does that mean?"

"I ASK A SOLDIER. I WAS BREED TO RECEIVE ORDERS."

"Well you're never going to get any. Not ever."

"I DEMAND ORDERS!"

"They're never going to come! Your race is dead! You all burnt, all of you. Ten million ships on fire. The entire Dalek race wiped out in one second."

"YOU LIE!"

"I watched it happen. I made it happen!"

"YOU DESTROYED US?"

"I had no choice." I hurt for the Doctor. I know he's ashamed of his past.

"AND WHAT OF THE TIME LORDS?"

"Dead. They burnt with you. The end of the last great Time War. Everyone lost."

"AND THE COWARD SURVIVED."

"Oh, and I caught your little signal. Help me. Poor little thing. But there's no one else coming 'cause there's no one else left."

"I AM ALONE IN THE UNIVERSE."

"Yep."

"SO ARE YOU. WE ARE THE SAME."

"We're not the same! I'm not- No, wait. Maybe we are. You're right. Yeah, okay. You've got a point. 'Cause I know what to do. I know what should happen. I know what you deserve. Exterminate." The Doctor pulls a lever on a nearby console and the Dalek is lit up with electricity.

"HAVE PITY"

"Why should I? You never did."

"Make it stop! Please, stop him!" I beg. Daleks are terrible, but the Doctor is not.

"Get him out." Van Statten mutters.

"HELP ME!" Guards grab the Doctor as he goes to ramp up the voltage again.

"I saved your life. Now talk to me. Goddamn it, talk to me!" Van Statten yells at the Dalek as Simmons turns off the electricity.

"You've got to destroy it!" The Doctor is dragged out. Though I have seen the television series I still rush to the Doctor's side to check if he is well. He simply lets me look him over, as if this were routine.

"The last in the universe. And now I know your name. Dalek. Speak to me, Dalek. I am Henry van Statten, now recognise me! Make it talk again, Simmons. Whatever it takes."

"The metal's just battle armour. The real Dalek creature's inside."

"What does it look like?"

"A nightmare. It's a mutation. The Dalek race was genetically engineered. Every single emotion was removed except hate."

"Genetically engineered. By whom?" Van Statten was clearly interested in the creatures.

"By a genius, Van Statten. By a man who was king of his own little world. You'd like him."

"It's been on Earth for over fifty years. Sold at a private auction, moving from one collection to another. Why would it be a threat now?" Goddard's naive question earns a scoff from me.

"Because I'm here. How did it get to Earth? Does anyone know?" The Doctor asserts.

"The records say it came from the sky like a meteorite. It fell to Earth on the Ascension Islands. Burnt in its crater for three days before anybody could get near it and all that time it was screaming. It must have gone insane."

"It must have fallen through time. The only survivor." I rubbed the Doctor's arm in sympathy with his sorrowful words.

"You talked about a war?"

"The Time War. The final battle between my people and the Dalek race." My heart became very heavy.

"But you survived, too." Van Statten notes.

"Not by choice."

"And what about you, little girl? Were you this Time War?" Van Statten's eyes seemed to pierce through me.

Quickly stepping in front the Doctor replies forcefully. "No. She is human. An innocent human."

"Well, this means that the Dalek isn't the only alien on Earth. Doctor, there's you. The only one of your kind in existence."


	3. Chapter 3

**So I've now got a proper laptop, making it easier for myself to post. Prior to getting this laptop, I had to use my Droid, which I managed, but the word processor on it made it a pain to write a story on, hence the long periods of time between each update. I will soon be starting my freshman year of college though, so I just ask that you bear with me while I become adjusted to this change. Until then, and of course then as well, I will try and post as much as possible.**

**Also, I was thinking, I really am a fan of Doctor/OC stories, hence the story, and would really love to write for some of the earlier Doctors, most likely beginning with the second or third Doctor. I don't think I'd do too many chapters with the earlier Doctors, in comparison the latter three of course (And possibly the twelfth once the time comes), but I think it would add to their story for her to be integrated into his life from earlier years in his life. It may take some research, since I feel that I don't know the earlier Doctors as well as I do the last 3, but I would really like to. Please let me know what you think!**

**Please review and follow! Constructive criticism and feedback welcome!**

"Now, smile!" Van Statten's words send chills down my spine. I try to scream for Van Statten to stop as a painful laser scan runs down the Doctor's body, but my pleas are muffled by the tape Van Statten had placed around my mouth to quiet my words. I try and wiggle my wrists out of the cuffs to no avail. The chair he had me placed in remained stationary. "Two hearts! Binary vascular system. Oh, I am so going to patent this."

"So that's your secret. You don't just collect this stuff, you scavenge it." The Doctor's words were venomous as his eyes connected with mine. They were soft, posting the gentle question of my well-being. Though this was not ideal, I nodded slightly to answer his nonverbal question.

"This technology has been falling to Earth for centuries. All it took was the right mind to use it properly. Oh, the advances I've made from alien junk. You have no idea, Doctor. Broadband? Roswell. Just last year my scientists cultivated bacteria from the Russian crater, and do you know what we found? The cure for the common cold. Kept it strictly within the laboratory of course. No need to get people excited. Why sell one cure when I can sell a thousand palliatives?"

His eyes were once again sharp with poison towards the evil man. "Do you know what a Dalek is, Van Statten? A Dalek is honest. It does what it was born to do for the survival of its species. That creature in your dungeon is better than you."

"In that case, I will be true to myself and continue." I scoffed as best I could at his ignorance. "Little Girls should be seen and not heard." I then heard a deep growl come from the Doctor. It was so low I nearly ignored it.

"Listen to me! That thing downstairs is going to kill every last one of us!"

"Nothing can escape the Cage." He blasts the Doctor with the laser again.

I scream for the Doctor through the tape.

"But it's woken up. It knows I'm here. It's going to get out. Van Statten, I swear, no one on this base is safe. No one on this planet!" Van Statten runs the laser scan again. I scream alongside the Doctor, silently hoping his pain will end soon.

Over the intercom a man interrupts Van Statten's form of interrogation. "I repeat, this is not a drill!" The loud drill buzzes violently.

"Release me if you want to live." Van Statten was scared. He quickly released the Doctor who ran over to me. He gently pulled the tape away from my mouth. He then grabbed his sonic screwdriver from his jacket's pocket, located next to my chair, and quickly released me from the confines of the cuffs.

"Are you alright?" His words were soft, spoken so only I could hear. He had kneeled next to me so he was eye level with me. His large hand was stroking my hair gently. I was a bit shocked at this tenderness and affection, so I simply nodded my head. "Good." He then kissed my forehead and quickly dressed before grabbing my hand, pulling me to the office.

We quickly approached a large screen where Rose, Adam, and a few guards are frantically pacing.

"You've got to keep it in that cell!" The Doctor demands.

"Doctor, it's all my fault." Rose is worried.

The Guard then steps forward before speaking. "I've sealed the compartment. It can't get out, that lock's got a billion combinations."

"A Dalek's a genius. It can calculate a thousand billion combinations in one second flat." As the Doctor says this, we all stand motionless watching the cell door. Suddenly, the door opens and the Dalek appears.

"Open fire!" The guard calls.

"Don't shoot it! I want it unharmed!" Van Statten's orders fall on deaf ears fire the guards continue shooting at the Dalek.

"Rose, get out of there!" The Doctor yells.

Bywater sends De Maggio, Adam, and Rose away, still shooting at the Dalek who is approaching the wall monitor. When right in front of the screen, the Dalek smashes it, making the picture go black.

Goddard leads us to another monitor. "We're losing power. It's draining the base. Oh, my God. It's draining entire power supplies for the whole of Utah."

"It's downloading." The Doctor corrects him.

"Downloading what?" Van Statten asks.

"Sir, the entire West Coast has gone down." Goddard speaks in a panicked manner.

"It's not just energy. That Dalek just absorbed the entire internet. It knows everything." The Doctor releases my hand as he stands tall. His hand then moves to the small of my back.

"The cameras in the vault have gone down." I ignore Goddard as I look at the Doctor. His face reveals he is perfectly content to keep me in hands reach at all time. His constant affection confuses me.

"We've only got emergency power. It's eaten everything else. You've got to kill it now!"

"All guards to converge in the Metaltron cage, immediately."

"Tell them to stop shooting at it." I again scoff at Van Statten's skewed priorities.

"But it's killing them!"

"They're dispensable. That Dalek is unique. I don't want a scratch on its bodywork, do you hear me? Do you hear me?"

"That's us, right below the surface. That's the cage, and that's the Dalek."

The Doctor interrupts. "This museum of yours. Have you got any alien weapons?"

"Lots of them, but the trouble is the Dalek's between us and them."

"We've got to keep that thing alive. We could just seal the entire vault, trap it down there." Van Statten says.

"Leaving everyone trapped with it?" I inject, appalled by his selfishness and stupidity.

"Rose is down there. I won't let that happen. Have you got that? It's got to go through this area." The Doctor grabs my hand reassuringly and squeezes. "What's that?"

"Weapons testing. " Goddard says.

"Give guns to the technicians, the lawyers, anyone. Everyone. Only then have you got a chance of killing it."

"I thought you were the great expert, Doctor. If you're so impressive, then why not just reason with this Dalek? It must be willing to negotiate. There must be something it needs. Everything needs something." I send a glare at Van Statten for his comment.

"What's the nearest town?"

"Salt Lake City." I answer.

"Population?"

"One million."

"All dead." The Doctor deadpans. "If the Dalek gets out, it'll murder every living creature. That's all it needs."

"But why would it do that?" Van Statten truly seemed to underestimate the Dalek's power.

"Because it honestly believes they should die. Human beings are different, and anything different is wrong. It's the ultimate in racial cleansing and you, Van Statten, you've let it loose! The Dalek's surrounded by a force field. The bullets are melting before they even hit home, but it's not indestructible." The Doctor turns to make an announcement to the loading bay. "If you concentrate your fire, you might get through. Aim for the dome, the head, the eyepiece. That's the weak spot."

"Thank you, Doctor, but I think I know how to fight one single tin robot. Positions!" The Commander replied. My hand tightened around the Doctor's at his simple mistake.

"We've got vision." Goddard spoke as the monitor came back to life.

"It wants us to see." The Doctor's words were solemn.

The soldiers shot their guns with gusto, but the hail of bullets was having no effect. The Dalek then starts to rise straight up into the air. The Dalek then sets the sprinklers off. As the floor becomes covered with a layer of water, I hide my eyes in The Doctor's shoulder. Watching this part on television was one thing, but living it was entirely different. I had no desire to watch these people die.

The Dalek fires downwards and electrocutes every person on the ground.

"Fall back! Fall back! " The Commander finally makes an intelligent call, but the Dalek kills him and the rest of his men with another strategic shot.

"Perhaps it's time for a new strategy. Maybe we should consider abandoning this place." Van Statten is obviously careful to save his own hide.

"Except there's no power to the helipad, sir. We can't get out." Goddard's reply is full of attitude.

"You said we could seal the vault." The Doctor replies.

"It was designed to be a bunker in the event of nuclear war. Steel bulkheads." Van Statten informs.

Goddard is quick to shoot this idea down. "There's not enough power, those bulkheads are massive."

"We've got emergency power. We can re-route that to the bulkhead doors." The Doctor dismisses Goddard's claim.

"We'd have to bypass the security codes. That would take a computer genius."

"Good thing you've got me, then."

"You want to help?" I ask, not believing his offer.

"I don't want to die, Little Girl. Simple as that. And nobody knows this software better than me."

"Sir." At Goddard's voice, we look to her and follow her line of sight. The Dalek is now back on the ground.

"I SHALL SPEAK ONLY TO THE DOCTOR."

The Doctor steps forward, placing me to stand behind him. As he does this, his hand remains locked with my own. Periodically squeezing my fingers for comfort.

Why is he so affectionate? He constantly grabs my hand, or strokes my hair, or places his hand on my back. It's as if he's worried I'll get myself in trouble if left to my own devices. I know this version of the Doctor. Sure, he'd grab people's hands when running to make them follow him, but never would he simply hold their hand. These are the early days for this Doctor. I still see his anger and bitterness from the Time War carrying over into his interactions with others, but all negative emotions seemed to disappear when he spoke or looked at me. This is so very out of character for him.

"All right, then. If you want orders, follow this one. Kill yourself." The Doctors bitter command broke through my thoughts.

"THE DALEKS MUST SURVIVE."

"The Daleks have failed! Why don't you finish the job and make the Daleks extinct. Rid the Universe of your filth. Why don't you just die?"

"YOU WOULD MAKE A GOOD DALEK."

"Seal the Vault."

"I can leech power off the ground defences, feed it to the bulkheads. God, it's been years since I had to work this fast." Van Statten spoke from his seat in front of the security monitor. The Doctor proceeded to sit across from him, typing away furiously to assist him.

"Are you enjoying this?"

"Doctor, Rose is still down there." I mumble, soft enough for him to hear. Doctor's typing halts. I quickly hand him Goddard's phone. He dials her number before he begins to pace back and forth across the office floor.

"Where are you?" The Doctor pauses for her reply. "You've got to keep moving. The vault's being sealed off up at level forty six." Though we cannot hear Rose's exact words, we can hear a muffled voice filled with worry. "I'm the one who's closing them. I can't wait and I can't help you. Now for God's sake, run."

"Done it. We've got power to the bulkheads." Van Statten's voice breaks our silence.

"The Dalek's right behind them." Goddard updates.

"Doctor, I can't sustain the power. The whole system is failing. Doctor, you've got to close the bulkheads."

"I'm sorry." The Doctor's voice is full of guilt.

"The vault is sealed."

The Doctor's voice is frantic. "Rose, where are you? Rose, did you make it?" Again, we could hear the sorrow in her voice as she informs him that she didn't. My head hangs low as I remember their conversation. I flinch when the Dalek's loud proclamation of 'exterminate' penetrates the phone's speaker.

The Doctor drops the phone to the ground. "I killed her."

"I'm sorry." There finally was some sincerity to Van Statten's voice, but the Doctor wasn't having it.

"I said I'd protect her. She was only here because of me, and you're sorry? I could've killed that Dalek in it's cell, but you stopped me." The oncoming storm was approaching.

" It was the prize of my collection!"

"Your collection? But was it worth it? Worth all those men's deaths? Worth Rose? Let me tell you something, Van Statten. Mankind goes into space to explore, to be part of something greater."

"Exactly! I wanted to touch the stars!"

"You just want to drag the stars down and stick them underground, underneath tons of sand and dirt, and label them. You're about as far from the stars as you can get. And you took her down with you. She was nineteen years old."

The moment Adam enters the office, the Doctor is quick to verbally attack him.

"You were quick on your feet, leaving Rose behind."

"I'm not the one who sealed the vault!" Adam's voice is defensive.

"OPEN THE BULKHEAD OR ROSE TYLER DIES" The Dalek announces as the screen comes to life to an image of the alien holding Rose captive.

" You're alive!" The Doctor's voice is full of pleasant shock.

"Can't get rid of me." Though she is safe, she is clearly frightened.

"I thought you were dead."

"OPEN THE BULKHEAD!" The Dalek interrupts their conversation.

"Don't do it!" Rose demands.

"WHAT USE ARE EMOTIONS IF YOU WILL NOT SAVE THE WOMAN YOU LOVE?"

The look the Doctor gave me was one of a desperate plea. What he was pleading for, I have no clue. "I killed her once. I can't do it again."

Van Statten is clearly upset with the Doctor's actions. "What do we do now, you bleeding heart. What the hell do we do?"

"Kill it when it gets here." Adam replies simply.

"All the guns are useless, and the alien weapons are in the vault." Goddard informs.

"Only the catalogued ones."

With Adams idea, we follow him swiftly to the workshop, filled to the brim with various pieces of unidentifiable alien technology.

"Broken. Broken. Hairdryer." The Doctor sorts through the various items Adam viewed as significant.

"Mister Van Statten tends to dispose of his staff, and when he does he wipes their memory. I kept this stuff in case I needed to fight my way out one day."

"What, you in a fight? I'd like to see that."

"I could do."

"What're you going to do, throw your A-Levels at 'em? Oh, yes. Lock and load."

We run quickly up to level one, where we find Dalek and Rose, bathing in the Dalek made sunroof.

" You're out. You made it. I never thought I'd feel the sunlight again." Rose mutters.

"HOW DOES IT FEEL?"

The Dalek's shield is opened, revealing the true creature within. One tendril reaches out, feeling the sun rays.

"Get out of the way. Rose, get out of the way now!" The Doctor is adamant, gun in hand.

"No, Doctor. That's not the way to do things." I speak with strength, reaching my hand out to his arm, trying to get him to lower his gun.

"That thing killed hundreds of people." He's shocked that I could stand up for a Dalek.

"It's not the one pointing the gun at me." Rose replies.

"I've got to do this. I've got to end it. The Daleks destroyed my home, my people. I've got nothing left." The Doctor exposes a sliver of vulnerability with his confession.

"Look at it."

"What's it doing?"

"It's the sunlight, that's all it wants."

"But it can't-"

"It couldn't kill Van Statten, it couldn't kill me. It's changing. What about you, Doctor? What the hell are you changing into?"

The Doctor finally saw what we were standing for. He dropped the gun and looked between the two of us. "I couldn't. I wasn't. Oh, Alice, Rose. They're all dead."

"WHY DO WE SURVIVE?" The Dalek ponders.

"I don't know."

"I AM THE LAST OF THE DALEKS."

"You're not even that. Rose did more than regenerate you. You've absorbed her DNA. You're mutating."

"INTO WHAT?"

"Something new. I'm sorry."

"Isn't that better?" Rose asks. Our eyes connect and I shake my head sadly.

"Not for a Dalek."

The next words uttered in the conversation began to blur into a gentle hum of noise. My vision blurred as the Doctor, Rose and the Dalek became colors and shapes rather than diverse beings. I blinked furiously and rubbed my ears vigorously, trying to gain my senses back. As I did so, the colors began to reshape into bodies as voices became more defined.

"Oh, you are kidding me. You are so kidding me. Oh, my God, we did it. We travelled in time. Where are we? No, sorry. I got to get used to this whole new language. When are we?"

Martha.

"Mind out."

The Doctor.

"Somewhere before the invention of the toilet. Sorry about that." The Doctor's eyes were suddenly transfixed on a pale blonde girl trying to compose herself, feet away. "Alice!"

I dropped my hands from my eyes, blinked a few times, and focused on the Doctor, who was now mere inches in front of me.

His eyes...

They were a warm shade of chocolate and quite large, but that wasn't what caught my eyes. I never really understood what the writers of Doctor Who meant by stating that his eyes were much older than his body. Yet, as they were right in front of me, all I could do was hope not to get lost in their depth. There was a wisdom about his eyes. He had seen death, birth, sorrow, happiness, and ache. It was all there in his eyes. You could see his emotions so clearly, at the moment, yet there was still mystery lurking beyond.

"Alice?" His eyes were full of concern.

I blinked my thoughts away, focusing on the Doctor, trying not to stutter due to his proximity.

"Yes?"

His eyes narrowed, trying to see if I were alright. To be honest, I didn't know if I were alright. Hours ago I was watching this man on television, saving the world and protecting his friends. Now, I was in his world, not just in it, but integrated into it. He knows me, he knows me very well since his ninth regeneration seemed to trust me.

I looked to him with a blank face, hoping he would not delve into my emotions at this moment. I wish to speak with him about my situation, but now was the time to save Shakespeare, and I will not be the one to stand in the way of him saving the world.

His frown was replaced with a grin. He held his arm out to me after placing a swift kiss to my check, influencing a large smile to grace my features. I wrapped my arm around his. "Allons-y!"


	4. Chapter 4

**I don't know about you all, but I'm extremely excited for Peter Capaldi to be the 12th Doctor! I'm heartbroken Matt Smith is leaving, he is my Doctor, though David Tennant is probably my favorite, but I'm glad the role has been given to such a talented actor. Don't get me wrong, the Doctor could certainly be a female, I would just prefer the Doctor to be male.**

**I really would like to incorporate him into the story, once we actually see him and learn his personality. I personally think he'll be a bit more serious, since Moffat said he "is not Matt" and Matt Smith has always, in my opinion, been on a more goofy side. Then again, he is the Doctor, so he has many sides.**

**I think I will do some older episodes though, I really enjoy all incarnations of the Doctor and want Alice to be a principle role in his lifetime.**

**Please review and follow!**

"That's amazing! Just amazing. It's worth putting up with the smell. And those are men dressed as women, yeah?" Martha shouts over the amorous applause of the audience.

"London never changes." I simply laugh at the Doctor, gaining a smile in reply. I had never been out of the country prior to coming here, but then again, I'm in a completely different world.

"Where's Shakespeare? I want to see Shakespeare. Author! Author! Do people shout that? Do they shout Author?"

"Author! Author!" A man in the crowd caught onto what Martha was trying to do, and began to demand the word, influencing the audience to join his chant.

"Well, they do now." The Doctor mutters.

I won't lie, I quietly joined the audience in the Shakespeare is a favorite playwright of mine. I stand on my toes trying to gain a better sight of the stage once he strutted into view. He was confident in his bows and only proved to become more self satisfied with the audience's uproar of cheers.

"He's a bit different from his portraits." Martha notes.

"Genius. He's a genius. The genius. The most human human there's ever been. Now we're going to hear him speak. Always he chooses the best words. New, beautiful, brilliant words." I nod enthusiastically to the Doctor's praises.

"Ah, shut your big fat mouths!" The Doctor's face fell at Shakespeare's words. The audience only seemed to become more enthralled with the playwright.

"Oh, well."

"You should never meet your heroes." Martha says.

"You've got excellent taste, I'll give you that. Oh, that's a wig." Shakespeare's arrogance floods his words.

"I know what you're all saying. Loves Labour's Lost, that's a funny ending, isn't it? It just stops. Will the boys get the girls? Well, don't get your hose in a tangle, you'll find out soon. Yeah, yeah. All in good time. You don't rush a genius." I instantly remember Lilith's magic over Shakespeare when he suddently goes rigid and speaks words that were not influenced by his own thoughts. "When? Tomorrow night. The premiere of my brand new play. A sequel, no less, and I call it Loves Labour's Won."

The Doctor and I exchange a look. He knew I was an avid enthusiast of Shakespeare, as he earlier revealed this was the reason he came here, knowing I could never miss this trip, and knew I would become suspicious of 'Love Labour's Won' since the play had never been apart of his portfolio.

The audience began to file out of the Globe Theater. The Doctor led the way, holding my hand as I held Martha's so that we remain together, through the crowd.

"I'm not an expert, but I've never heard of Loves Labour's Won." Martha speaks as we reach the street outside of the theater.

"No one has." I speak.

The Doctor nods at my statement, letting my hand go as he looked around. "Exactly. The lost play. It doesn't exist, only in rumours. It's mentioned in lists of his plays but never ever turns up. And no one knows why."

"Have you got a mini-disc or something? We can tape it. We can flog it. Sell it when we get home and make a mint." Martha speaks mischievously as I shake my head in playful disappointment at her.

"No."

"That would be bad." Martha nods in acceptance.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Well, how come it disappeared in the first place?"

"Well, I was just going to give you a quick little trip in the Tardis, but I suppose we could stay a bit longer." Martha, The Doctor, and I were all giddy to discover the reasoning behind the lost play's disappearance. Of course I knew, but who knows just how different things may be with myself inserted into the plot. I would need to observe the Doctor and find out, since he seems to be my only constant ally while in the world.

The Doctor leads us along the London streets, grabbing my hand once he decided his path, and began to swing our arms back and forth. His vision swept from side to side, trying to decide where we were going.

He never has a plan.

But that's what makes him the Doctor. He's always there to save the day, and never has any sort of plans to aid him, only his own intelligence and prior experience.

These were qualities I always admired in him. He could be brash, ignorant, and rude to people, but he would always help them. No matter who they were, no matter how well he knew them, he'd always be there to protect them. That's who he is, the Protector of the Universe.

As we walked, I watched him. His features appeared almost childish when he pursed his lips and furrowed his brow in confusion. You could almost see the gears shifting behind his eyes. His hair, a touchable chocolate color, was perfectly disheveled so that a few strands fell on his forehead.

I would be lying if I said he was unattractive.

Then again, I found all incarnations of the Doctor to be attractive.

The way he was holding my hand constantly didn't help either.

I slowly became aware that I was staring at him. Not only was I staring at him blatantly, but a large, no doubt romantic, smile appeared on my face. He too seemed to notice before I could look away. The goofy grin that caused his mouth to upturn revealed that he knew I was staring this entire time.

I slowly turned my eyes from him to the London streets, a light blush flaming in my cheeks. From my peripherals I could see the Doctor's smile grow even more.

"Ah! Let's go here!" The Doctor led us to The Elephant, a tavern that I knew contained the playwright we were looking for.

Voices of Shakespeare, his two friends, and the barmaid filled the tavern once we entered.

"You must be mad, Will. Loves Labour's Won? I mean, we're not ready. It's supposed to be next week. What made you say that?"

"You haven't even finished it yet."

"I've just got the final scene to go. You'll get it by morning." Shakespeare's conversation was interrupted by our entering.

"Hello! Excuse me, not interrupting, am I? Mister Shakespeare, isn't it?" The Doctor speaks.

"Oh, no. No, no, no. Who let you in? No autographs. No, you can't have yourself sketched with me. And please don't ask where I get my ideas from. Thanks for the interest. Now be a good boy and shove-" His eyes lock on Martha. "Hey, nonny nonny. Sit right down here next to me. You two get sewing on them costumes. Off you go." As he send his friends away his eyes land on me. "Ah, my, you may sit on my other side." He speaks with an impish grin.

I smile in return and begin to walk to the seat before the Doctor grabs my hand, pulling me slightly behind him, "She's good." He says with a deep frown.

"Sweet lady." He now addresses Martha, having gotten the hint from the Doctor to back off. The Doctor and Martha sit in the seats next to Shakespeare. Seeing no available chairs, I remain standing, leaning against the wall. "Such unusual clothes. So fitted." His eyes rake down Martha, then turn to me, and follow the curves of my body to my face. I slightly frown at this, but say nothing knowing he posed no real threat.

The Doctor, however, did not seem to appreciate his comment at all.

His eyes remained narrowed on Shakespeare as his hand raised, gesturing a motion inviting me closer. I do as he asks, and am surprised to have him pull me onto his lap.

I finally acknowledged the butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

Who wouldn't be affected this way?

He is beautiful, cheerful, and wholly good. His arms seem to fit around me and his hand always cocoons mine perfectly, no matter which incarnation I was with.

I can't help but question what our relationship is. He's always got me in arms reach if I'm not in his arms. He's overly protective and concerned for my well being. He irrevocably trusts me.

He treats me the way men are supposed to treat their significant others. With gentleness, care, and kindness.

But I quickly shoot that idea down.

River Song is his significant other, not me.

So why does he seem to care so much about me?

I suppose we could be the best of friends. He did seem to hold his friend's hands, even if he did eventually let the go when he seemed to hold onto mine longer. Maybe I make him think I'm fragile in my future, hurt myself or experience some sort of tragedy, making him treat me as such. Maybe he see's me as his family and became protective over me once Shakespeare began his flirting.

There's so many possibilities, I just need time to speak to the Doctor about it.

Martha seemed to take no notice in the Doctor's actions towards me, which surprised me. Martha was supposed to be completely taken with him by this point due to their kiss shared as a way to perform a genetic transfer, but here she sits, unaffected. "Er, verily, forsooth, egads."

"No, no, don't do that. Don't." The Doctor groaned at her attempt to fit in. The Doctor then reaches into his pocket and pulls out the psychic paper and shows it to Shakespeare. "I'm Sir Doctor of Tardis and these are my companions, Miss Alice Fitzgerald and Miss Martha Jones.

The author seemed unimpressed by the Doctor's identification. "Interesting, that bit of paper. It's blank."

The Doctor couldn't prevent the large grin from spreading on his face. He seemed to have forgotten his earlier distaste for Shakespeare as he spoke, "Oh, that's very clever. That proves it. Absolute genius."

"No, it says so right there. Sir Doctor, Alice Fitzgerald, and Martha Jones. It says so." Martha shows the blank paper to us. I assume that because I know of it's true ability, I must see through it.

"And I say it's blank." Shakespeare remains adamant.

The Doctor adjusts in his seat, sitting back, and effectively pulling me further into his lap. I blushed lightly at our close proximity. I silently cursed myself for allowing this man to make me feel so flustered over a simple gesture. "Psychic paper. Er, long story. Oh, I hate starting from scratch."

"Psychic? Never heard that before and words are my trade. Who are you exactly? More's the point, who is your delicious blackamoor lady?" He seemed to have forgotten I existed at this point.

"What did you say?" Martha says, taken aback.

"Oops. Isn't that a word we use nowadays? An Ethiop girl? A swarth? A Queen of Africa?"

"I can't believe I'm hearing this."

"It's political correctness gone mad. Er, Martha's from a far-off land. Freedonia." The Doctor speaks for Martha.

"And where do you rein from, my dear Silver Queen? " My eyebrow quirks at this name. He catches onto my confusion and simply provides a wry smile. "Your silver eyes." He clarifies.

Technically, they're grey, but I don't correct him.

"They're quite beautiful." He flirts.

Ah, so he hasn't quite given up.

The Doctor then speaks quite sharply, "She too is from Freedonia." His tone quickly end Shakespeare's gentle flirting.

Suddenly, a man I remember to be an official censor bursts into the tavern.

"Excuse me! Hold hard a moment. This is abominable behaviour. A new play with no warning? I demand to see a script, Mister Shakespeare. As Master of the Revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me before it can be performed." The Man speaks ferociously.

"Tomorrow morning, first thing, I'll send it round." Shakespeare asserts.

"I don't work to your schedule, you work to mine. The script, now!"

"I can't."

"Then tomorrow's performance is cancelled."

Martha interjects. "It's all go around here, isn't it?"

The censor ignores her. "I'm returning to my office for a banning order. If it's the last thing I do, Love's Labours Won will never be played."

"Well then, mystery solved. That's Love's Labours Won over and done with. Thought it might be something more, you know, more mysterious."

A man's scream sounds throughout the room, followed by a woman's. For a silent moment, we exchange looks before jumping into action and heading to the streets to investigate.

"It's that Lynley bloke." Martha pointed out as the censor spat water from his mouth.

The Doctor and Martha go to help him as Shakespeare and I give them some room. "What's wrong with him? Leave it to me. I'm a doctor."

"So am I, near enough."

Lynley, at the end of his fit, collapses.

I look away, knowing what happened to him.

"Got to get the heart going. Mister Lynley, come on. Can you hear me? You're going to be all right." As Martha clears his airway, more water expels from his mouth. "What the hell is that?"

The Doctor was stumped. "I've never seen a death like it. His lungs are full of water. He drowned and then, I don't know, like a blow to the heart, an invisible blow. Good mistress," he addresses Dolly, "This poor fellow has died from a sudden imbalance of the humours. A natural if unfortunate demise. Call a constable and have him taken away."

"Yes, sir." She replies.

Lilith interjects, "I'll do it, ma'am." I watch as she walks away, a large smile on her face. It truly unnerved me.

"And why are you telling them that?" Martha asks.

"This lot still have got one foot in the Dark Ages. If I tell them the truth, they'll panic and think it was witchcraft." The Doctor answers.

"Okay, what was it then?"

"Witchcraft."


	5. Chapter 5

**IvoryGlass: Thank you so much for your review! I really appreciate your kind words! And to answer your question, I think I am going to. I know you can only list 4 characters, so I did my four favorite doctors. I really like the idea of having Alice being ingrained in the Doctors life. I personally enjoy reading stories like these, and know they are popular, but really want to try and be a bit different, well, as different as a story can be with a similar concept to others. I think by involving more than just the last three, I may be able to do just that.**

**Please review and follow!**

"I got you a room, Sir Doctor. You, Miss Fitzgerald, and Miss Jones are just across the landing." Dolly informs us.

"Poor Lynley. So many strange events. Not least of all, this land of Freedonia where a woman can be a doctor?" Shakespeare questions.

"Where a woman can do what she likes." Martha states firmly.

"And what about you, Miss Alice? Are you too a doctor?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm simply a student."

"Studying what, pray tell?"

"Anthropology and Criminology." Though I had not officially graduated high school, I was just over a week away from it. My plan was to attend Louisiana State University and use my chosen majors to help people through the justice system. I wanted to partake in forensics or criminal investigations.

His eyebrow raised, impressed. He turned to the Doctor. "And you, Sir Doctor. How can a man so young have eyes so old? "

"I do a lot of reading." The Doctors reply is a lie, something Shakespeare sees right through.

"A trite reply. Yeah, that's what I'd do. And you?" He turns to Martha. "You look at him like you're surprised he exists. He's as much of a puzzle to you as he is to me."

"I think we should say goodnight." Martha leaves.

Shakespeare's eyes turn to me. I can see he wishes to say something to me, just as he had assessed Martha and the Doctor, but instead he shakes his head, turning to the Doctor. "I must work. I have a play to complete. But I'll get my answers tomorrow, Doctor, and I'll discover more about you and why this constant performance of yours."

"All the world's a stage." The Doctor quotes.

"Hmm. I might use that. Goodnight, Doctor, Alice."

I nod with a gentle smile. "Nighty night, Shakespeare." The Doctor grabs my hand and leads us to our room.

"It's not exactly five star, is it?" Martha questions.

"Oh, it'll do. I've seen worse." I pull from the Doctor, looking around, trying to decide where I would sleep. I suppose when you run with the Doctor, you never have time to think about such trivial matters as food and sleep. The exhaustion was gnawing at my consciousness.

"I haven't even got a toothbrush."

"Oh. Er." The Doctor searches through his pocket before pulling one out.

"Contains Venusian spearmint."

"Do you have another one in there?" I question hopefully.

He produces another with a smile. "Here we are!"

"Thank you." I return the grin.

Once in the TARDIS, my excitement filled as I thought of the spacecraft, I would be able to enjoy a nice shower. For now, however, brushing my teeth and washing my face would have to suffice.

After both brushing our teeth and preparing for bed, Martha spoke."So, who's going where? I mean, there's only one bed."

"We'll manage. Come on." I looked to Martha, who seemed a bit uncomfortable. After a small pause I moved to lay next to the Doctor, Martha following, placing me in the middle. I'm thankful to be lying on a bed after today's adventures, but have no idea how this will work. I tried my best to take as little space as possible, but thanks to the bed's size, was still touching both Martha and the Doctor. I turned on my side, facing Martha, almost too shy to acknowledge the fact I was sharing a bed with the Doctor, and began to try and sleep.

"So, magic and stuff. That's a surprise. It's all a little bit Harry Potter."

"Wait till you read book seven. Oh, I cried."

"My heart still hasn't recovered." I muttered eyes still closed.

"But is it real, though? I mean, witches, black magic and all that, it's real?" Martha asks incredulously.

"Course it isn't!" The Doctor exclaims.

"Well, how am I supposed to know? I've only just started believing in time travel. Give me a break."

"Looks like witchcraft, but it isn't. Can't be." The Doctor turns on his side, looking at Martha over my head. "There's such a thing as psychic energy, but a human couldn't channel it like that. Not without a generator the size of Taunton and I think we'd have spotted that. No, there's something I'm missing, Martha. Something really close, staring me right in the face and I can't see it. Rose'd know. A friend of mine, Rose. Right now, she'd say exactly the right thing. Still, can't be helped. You're a novice, never mind. I'll take you back home tomorrow." I could hear the sadness in his voice.

His tone of voice confirms his true emotions for Rose, allowing the thought of us together to be distinguished. I honestly didn't know whether I felt relieved or saddened by this.

I honestly am unsure of where he and I stand.

I peak open one eye, looking at the hurt in Martha's eyes, "Great." With that one bitter word, she blows out the candle, allowing darkness to invade the room.

I felt the Doctor gently press closer to me. His back and legs were in line with my own. His nose just barely pressed against my hair.

Then a thought hit me.

Rose just left. The Doctor is hurting. He was already affectionate with me before, so now that Rose is gone he must be seeking some sort of comfort without telling anyone how broken he felt.

Sympathy flooded my veins. I reached my left hand back, instantly finding his own, and grasped it gently, resting our joined hands on my left hip. He squeezed my hand, pressing even closer and began nuzzling his nose against my hair.

The intimate gestures soothed me into a deep sleep.

It's as though I blinked and suddenly a scream rang through the inn. The only reason I knew I had slept was because I did feel more energy flood through me, even if still tired, and the Doctor and I seemed to have moved into an even more intimate position in our sleep.

This I was a bit embarrassed of.

His scent flooding my senses. The only thing I could identify was the smell of old books, a scent I found nostalgic. It was as though his scent was clean with notes of crisp cinnamon or nutmeg. I couldn't be sure, but I liked it, I liked it alot. So much so that I buried my head in his neck while sleeping. His nose was now buried in my hair, his body curling around my own, his arms holding me against him. Our legs were tangled intimately and my hands were cradled to my chest.

I enjoyed cuddling and affection like any girl, maybe even more so considering I didn't really have friends to be affectionate with, but I never expected to have been so entwined with him like we were now.

Thankfully the scream was so shrill and abrupt that once Martha and the Doctor woke as well neither noticed our intimate sleeping arrangement or the flush that spread across my cheeks.

We all jump into action, running to Dolly.

"What? What was that?" Shakespeare asks looking at Dolly's collapsed body.

The Doctor looked her over as Martha and I walk to the window, watching as Lilith cackled.

The Doctors voice was solemn. "Her heart gave out. She died of fright."

"Doctor?" I call.

The Doctor replies eagerly. "What did you see?"

"A witch." Martha answers.

"Oh, sweet Dolly Bailey. She sat out three bouts of the plague in this place when we all ran like rats. But what could have scared her so? She had such enormous spirit." Shakespeare speaks as the sun rises.

"Rage, rage against the dying of the light." The Doctor quotes.

"I might use that."

"You can't. It's someone else's."

"But the thing is, Lynley drowned on dry land, Dolly died of fright, and they were both connected to you." Martha thinks out loud.

Shakespeare becomes defensive. "You're accusing me?"

"No, but I saw a witch, big as you like, flying, cackling away, and you've written about witches."

"I have? When was that?"

"Not yet." I say, shaking my hair.

"Peter Streete spoke of witches."

"Who's Peter Streete?" Martha asks.

"Our builder. He sketched the plans to the Globe."

"The architect. Hold on. The architect! The architect! The Globe! Come on!" The Doctor exclaims, grabbing my hand and leading us the way to the Globe. I kept my pace fast, keeping up with the Doctor's long strides. "The columns there, right?" The Doctor asks once we reach the theater. "Fourteen sides. I've always wondered, but I never asked. Tell me, Will. Why fourteen sides?"

"It was the shape Peter Streete thought best, that's all. Said it carried the sound well."

"Fourteen. Why does that ring a bell? Fourteen."

"There's fourteen lines in a sonnet." Martha chirps.

"So there is. Good point. Words and shapes following the same design. Fourteen lines, fourteen sides, fourteen facets. Oh, my head. Tetradecagon. Think, think, think! Words, letters, numbers, lines!"

"This is just a theater." Shakespeare says, confused.

"Oh yeah, but a theatre's magic, isn't it? You should know. Stand on this stage, say the right words with the right emphasis a the right time. Oh, you can make men weep, or cry with joy. Change them. You can change people's minds just with words in this place. But if you exaggerate that."

"It's like your police box. Small wooden box with all that power inside." Martha expands on his topic.

"Oh. Oh, Martha Jones, I like you. Tell you what, though. Peter Streete would know. Can I talk to him?"

"You won't get an answer. A month after finishing this place, lost his mind." Shakespeare answers.

"Why? What happened?" Martha asks.

"Started raving about witches, hearing voices, babbling. His mind was addled."

"Where is he now?" The Doctor answers.

"Bedlam."

Martha's confused voice calls, "What's Bedlam?"

"Bedlam Hospital. The madhouse."

"We're going to go there. Right now. Come on." Again, the Doctor jerks my hand, pulling me with him.

I'm starting to believe this is a regular occurrence.

"Wait! I'm coming with you. I want to witness this at first hand." Shakespeare follows as two men enter the theater. "Ralph, the last scene as promised. Copy it, hand it round, learn it, speak it. Back before curtain up. And remember, kid, project. Eyes and teeth. You never know, the Queen might turn up. As if. She never does."

As the Doctor and I lead, Martha and Shakespeare follow. "So, tell me of Freedonia, where women can be doctors, writers, actors." Shakespeare enquires.

"This country's ruled by a woman." Martha replies.

"Ah, she's royal. That's God's business. Though you are a royal beauty."

"Whoa, Nelly. I know for a fact you've got a wife in the country."

"But Martha, this is Town."

"Come on. We can all have a good flirt later." The Doctor interjects.

"Is that a promise, Doctor?"

I giggle as the Doctor groans.

"Oh, fifty seven academics just punched the air. Now move!"

The Keeper speaks once we enter the hospital, "Does my Lord Doctor wish some entertainment while he waits? I'd whip these madmen. They'll put on a good show for you. Mad dog in Bedlam."

Our faces all scrunch in disgust.

"No, I don't!"

"Well, wait here, my lords, while I make him decent for the ladies."

"So this is what you call a hospital, yeah? Where the patients are whipped to entertain the gentry? And you put your friend in here?" Martha is appalled.

"Oh, it's all so different in Freedonia." Shakespeare speaks wryly.

"But you're clever. Do you honestly think this place is any good?"

"I've been mad. I've lost my mind. Fear of this place set me right again. It serves its purpose."

"Mad in what way?"

"Child loss." I speak softly.

"You lost your son." The Doctor elaborates.

"My only boy. The Black Death took him. I wasn't even there." Shakespeare's voice was sad, broken.

"I didn't know. I'm sorry." Martha spoke sympathetically.

"It made me question everything. The futility of this fleeting existence. To be or not to be. Oh, that's quite good."

"You should write that down." The Doctor notes.

"Maybe not. A bit pretentious?"

"I like it." I offer.

"This way, my lord!" The Keeper leads us to Streete's cell where a hunched figure in rags turns away from us. "They can be dangerous, my lord. Don't know their own strength."

The Doctors voice holds venom as he exclaims, "I think it helps if you don't whip them. Now get out!" The Keeper, shocked by the Doctor's words, leaves. "Peter? Peter Streete?"

"He's the same as he was. You'll get nothing out of him." Shakespeare affirms.

"Peter?" The Doctor reaches out to Streete, letting go of my hand and touching his shoulder. Streete's eyes raise to the Doctor, simply staring. The Doctor places his fingers against Streete's temples. "Peter, I'm the Doctor. Go into the past. One year ago. Let your mind go back. Back to when everything was fine and shining. Everything that happened in this year since happened to somebody else. It was just a story. A Winter's Tale. Let go. That's it. That's it, just let go." He assists Streete to lay on the cot."Tell me the story, Peter. Tell me about the witches."

Streete's voice replies, but his words hint that Streete isn't doing the talking. "Witches spoke to Peter. In the night, they whispered. They whispered. Got Peter to build the Globe to their design. Their design! The fourteen walls. Always fourteen. When the work was done they snapped poor Peter's wits."

"Where did Peter see the witches? Where in the city? Peter, tell me. You've got to tell me where were they?"

"All Hallows Street."

"Too many words." The old and hag-like witch appears.

"What the hell?" Martha mutters.

"Just one touch of the heart."

"No!" The Doctor tries to save him, but she is too quick. She places her hand on Streete's chest, instantly killing him.

"Witch! I'm seeing a witch!" Shakespeare exclaims, alarmed.

"Now, who would be next, hmm? Just one touch. Oh, oh, I'll stop your frantic hearts. Poor, fragile mortals." I sneer at the woman.

Martha calls for help, "Let us out! Let us out!"

"That's not going to work. The whole building's shouting that." The Doctor points out.

"Who will die first, hmm?" Her voice is shrill.

"Well, if you're looking for volunteers."

"No! Don't!" Martha cries.

"Doctor." My voice is a verbal threat. He looks to me, apologizing for his comment with his eyes.

Shakespeare asks, "Doctor, can you stop her?"

"No mortal has power over me." Her voice is far too confident for my liking.

"Oh, but there's a power in words. If I can find the right one. If I can just know you." I can see the Doctors gears are turning as he tries to think of their identity.

"None on Earth has knowledge of us."

"Then it's a good thing I'm here. Now think, think, think. Humanoid female, uses shapes and words to channel energy. Ah! Fourteen! That's it! Fourteen! The fourteen stars of the Rexel planetary configuration! Creature, I name you Carrionite!"

As the Doctor exclaims, the woman screams, crying out and agony, and disappears in an orchestra of light and smoke.

"What did you do?" Martha asks.

"I named her. The power of a name. That's old magic."

"But there's no such thing as magic." She's confused now.

"Well, it's just a different sort of science. You lot, you chose mathematics. Given the right string of numbers, the right equation, you can split the atom. Carrionites use words instead."

"Use them for what?" Shakespeare questions.

"The end of the world."


	6. Chapter 6

**Please follow and review!**

"The Carrionites disappeared way back at the dawn of the universe. Nobody was sure if they were real or legend." The Doctor speaks once we've entered Shakespeare's room.

"Well, I'm going for real." Shakespeare asserts.

"But what do they want?" Martha asks.

"A new empire on Earth. A world of bones and blood and witchcraft." The Doctor answers.

"But how?"

"I'm looking at the man with the words."

Shakespeare is shocked to have the Doctor looking at him. "Me? But I've done nothing."

"Hold on, though. What were you doing last night, when that Carrionite was in the room?" Martha asks.

"Finishing the play."

"How does the show end?" I ask.

"The boys get the girls. They have a bit of a dance. It's all as funny and thought provoking as usual — except those last few lines. Funny thing is... I don't actually remember writing them."

This answer seemed to satiate the Doctor. "That's it. They used you. They gave you the final words. Like a spell, like a code. 'Love's Labours Won' — it's a weapon! The right combination of words, spoken at the right place with the shape of the Globe as an energy converter! The play's the thing! And yes, you can have that." The Doctor looks at a map, trying to decide where to go next. "All Hallows Street. There it is. Alice, Martha, we'll track them down. Will, you get to the Globe. Whatever you do, stop that play!"

"I'll do it."

"And I think I'll go with him." I interrupt. I may not have a plan, but I'll do whatever I can to help Shakespeare.

The Doctor eyes me suspiciously, obviously not liking this idea, but slowly nods his head before Shakespeare took his hand to shake it.

"All these years I've been the cleverest man around. Next to you, I know nothing."

"Oh, don't complain." Martha rolls her eyes.

"I'm not. It's marvellous. Good luck, Doctor."

"Good luck, Shakespeare, Alice." As the Doctor speaks my name he looks at me in a silent warning, asking me to stay safe. I nod to him in understanding. Satisfied, the Doctor heads to the door before speaking, "Once more unto the breach!"

"I like that. Wait a minute... that's one of mine."

"Oh, just shift!"

Once the Doctor and Martha left I turned to Shakespeare.

"To the Globe?" I ask.

"To the Globe." He confirms.

We run from the room, being mindful not to run into any of the villagers littering the pathway.

When we finally reach the Theater we continue running until we reach the stage doors. Shakespeare looks to me for confirmation. I take a moment to gather some breath before standing tall and nodding. He pushes the doors open with full force. I allow him to go onstage before backing away from the door.

"Stop the play! I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen, but stop. This performance must end immediately!" Shakespeare shouts.

"Everyone's a critic." An actor onstage mutters.

"I'm sorry. You'll get a refund." The audience boos in response. "But this play must not be performed!" Shakespeare is suddenly knocked unconscious, falling to the ground. I hold off on moving for a moment.

I hear whispers from the actors of his drunken exploits before he is carried backstage, next to me. The actors seem to ignore my presence though as I step forward, propping him against the wall and checking his well-being. He was still breathing.

"You must forgive our irksome Will. He's been on the beer and feeling ill." Another actor addresses the audience.

"There is naught can stop us now." Doomfinger, the old hag, shrieks.

"Maybe not, but I could try." I speak, stepping onstage.

Suddenly, all eyes were on me. I began to regret my decision.

I'm no hero.

I'm not clever enough to be the Doctor.

The people wouldn't listen to Shakespeare, a well beloved playwright. What makes me think they would listen to me?

The witches eyes narrow in my direction.

"Please, listen to me." I begin, looking to the audience earnestly. They're all silent. I take that as a good sign and continue speaking, improvising my words as they leave my mouth, trying not to stutter. "This play must end. For the well-being of you all, please go home and don't turn back. You'll all get your money back and have the ability to see the show at a later date for free!" Their faces were blank as they stared at me.

"Why?" A man yells from the audience. Like fire, the word spreads throughout the audience, forming a wall of sound hitting the stage. I open my mouth to answer when a rotten tomato makes contact with my stomach, covering my white shirt in red juice. The audience laughs and begins to throw even more tomatoes at me. I'm appalled, but can do nothing but run backstage, trying to find another way to stop the show.

The stage doors are closed behind me. I look to Shakespeare to see him still knocked out cold. I quickly brush whatever remnants of the fruit off, displeased to see the stained material of my clothing that was now sticky and wet.

My eyes rake over the props placed backstage, riffling through the objects, trying to think of something.

An idea hits me, I look to Shakespeare who was coming to, and instantly felt bad. I was going to give him a headache.

At the top of my lungs I screamed a blood curdling shout before yelling "Fire!"

Though I was backstage, and there were actors onstage, the audience heard me. Screams filled the theatre as the audience began to run out of the Globe. I knew Thunderclouds were starting to appear above the theatre, influencing even more screams. I opened the stage doors quickly to see the show had finally stopped, and some audience members managed to escape before the doors shut with a forceful bang.

The Doctor and Martha finally meet up with us.

"Stop the play! I think that was it. Yeah, I said, 'Stop the play'!" The Doctor speaks harshly to Shakespeare who was currently nursing his head.

"I hit my head" Shakespeare's voice was pitiful.

"We did what we could Doctor. The Carrionites are too strong. They used their voodoo doll against him." My voice was firm as he looked to me ashamed at his tone. "I managed to get some of the audience out of their, but it was too late. I'm sorry, Doctor. We tried. We really did." My voice softened as guilt filled me.

I should have been quicker.

Before the Doctor could respond, Martha spoke. "What happened to you?" She gestured to my tomato covered hair and clothing.

I shook off her question. "The audience didn't like the idea of ending the show so they voiced their opinion."

"With tomatoes?" She asks.

"With tomatoes." I confirm.

"Well, don't rub it, you'll go bald." The Doctor voices to Shakespeare before screams began to build in volume once again. "I think that's my cue!" He runs to the stage followed by Martha pulling Shakespeare along and myself.

As we step onstage Lilith exclaims, "The Doctor! He lives! Then watch this world become a blasted heath! They come! They come!"

The remaining Carrionites freed from the crystal fly about the Globe.

The Doctor pulls Shakespeare forward, beside him before encouraging him to help. "Come on, Will! History needs you!"

"But what can I do?" He asks, alarmed.

"Reverse it!"

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"The shape of the Globe gives words power, but you're the wordsmith, the one true genius. The only man clever enough to do it!"

"But what words? I have none ready!"

"You're William Shakespeare!"

"But these Carrionite phrases, the need such precision!"

"Trust yourself. When you're locked away in your room, the words just come, don't they? Like magic. Words of the right sound, the right shape, the right rhythm — words that last forever! That's what you do, Will! You choose perfect words. Do it. Improvise!"

Though he speaks with hesitense, he tries to form the right words. "Close up this den of hateful, dire decay! Decomposition of your witches' plot! You thieve my brains, consider me your toy. My doting Doctor tells me I am not!"

"No! Words of power!" Lilith cries.

"Foul Carrionite spectres, cease your show! Between the points..." He looks to the Doctor for help.

"7-6-1-3-9-0!" The Doctor replies.

"7-6-1-3-9-0! And banished like a tinker's cuss, I say to thee..." Again he looks to the Doctor who is interrupted by Martha.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Expelliarmus!" The Doctor and I cry happily.

"Expelliarmus!" Shakespeare finishes.

"Good old JK!" The Doctor lauds.

With Shakespeare's words the Carrionites scream as they are pulled into the cloud above the Globe. The tornado pulled every scrap of Love's Labours Won with it.

"'Love's Labours Won. There it goes." The Doctor speaks.

The cloud dissipates and the audience begins applauding. I can only smile at the audience's naivety. The Doctor and I lock eyes and smile. As the actors take their bows, the Doctor grabs my hand and pulls us off stage

"We need to grab the crystal?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

He nods as we walk to their seats where the object was located. He observes it before pocketing it and turning to me. He's silent as he looks me over. His hands raise and grasp my head, raising my eyes to his.

"Are you alright?" He asks.

I smile at his concern and nod. "I am. A bit sticky and tired, but other than that. I think I'm alright."

"Good." He nods, leaning forward and kissing my forehead. When he pulls away, a bizarre look clouds his eyes. "You're young."

I raise my brow at this. "What do you mean?"

"How long have you been traveling with me?"

"This is my second trip." His eyes show he's shocked. I decided that if there was any person who could help me return home, it'd be the Doctor. He's otherworldly and intelligent. He would never judge me. "There was a crack on my wall. I didn't think, I just, touched it. Then suddenly I was here! Well, not here, but was actually in Van Statten's museum when you and Rose found me." I spoke in a rush before looking to him. His face was blank as I spoke. "Can you help me return home?" Finally his face showed emotion once again. He looked as though I stabbed him in the heart.

I didn't necessarily want to leave this exact moment. I enjoyed soaking in the Doctor's presence as any fangirl would. But I would be lying if I didn't admit I missed my parents. They would be worried about me. I know they would be.

He nodded slowly, removing the look from his face before letting a smile lift his lips. The smile saddened me for I could see it was fake. He, for some reason, didn't like me leaving.

But of course, he just lost Rose. I'm sure the last thing he needs is to lose another friend.

I inwardly curse myself for suggesting my leave right now.

"Well, let's get you to the TARDIS so you can get yourself cleaned up." He suggests. I nod, following him to the street where Shakespeare and Martha stood waiting for us. He kept his distance from me as he led me to the TARDIS, bidding good night to Shakespeare as he, Martha, and several of the actors went to celebrate the success of the show.

As we reached the TARDIS, I stood back, admiring the ship in awe. I felt so small and insignificant in comparison to the blue beauty.

"You haven't been on the TARDIS yet?" The Doctor leans against the time machine, smirking.

Words seem unobtainable, so I simply shake my head.

His smirk widened into a grin as he uses his key to open the door. He steps aside to let me in first. I stop, looking at him just before the threshold. He simply chuckles and nods his head to the door, encouraging me to enter. I smile softly before stepping inside.

I always dreamed of what the TARDIS would be like, but every dream I had could never be adequate enough to describe the TARDIS. She was large, much larger than the television could display. Her coral beams seemed to dwarf even the Doctor, whose height was much greater than my own.

I stepped up to the center panel, allowing my fingers to run along the cool surface, without applying any pressure to any of the buttons or levers.

I looked to the Doctor who was leaning against a beam with a small smile of his face.

"This is amazing." I speak under my breath.

"Would you like to see your room?" He asks.

"I have a room?" I ask, still whispering.

He nods before ushering me to follow him down one hallway. We make several turns that I ingrain in my brain before reaching a white sturdy door with a large golden 'A' hanging on it. The Doctor pushes the door open, revealing a nearly exact replica of my bedroom back home.

The walls were a blush color, nicely offsetting the vintage white furniture. My bed was perfectly made with a blush colored bedspread, and had copious amounts of fluffy white pillows resting against the white quilted headboard. The chandelier was positioned directly over my bed, and added a soft yellow glow to my bedroom.

The only difference I found was that there were no windows beside my bed.

"Well, I'll just let you get to it." The Doctor has become withdrawn and awkward. "Come find me when you're done. I'll go find Martha." I nod as he leaves, closing the door behind him.

I decide the best option would be to take a nice long shower. I step into the bathroom, relieved to find it to resembled my bathroom back home.

The walls were painted a soft beige. The shower and sink were both constructed of an ivory marble. I fill the sink with water, placing my soiled clothing in the water, letting it soak before turning my shower on.

I took my time bathing. I shaved thoroughly before exfoliating my skin, glad to rinse any of the sweat and tomato juice off of my skin.

I was pleasantly surprised to find all of my routine bathing products in their respective places.

I mentally thanked the TARDIS for her impeccable work on my room before washing my skin with a vanilla scented body wash. I meticulously washed my hair with my coconut shampoo and conditioner before using my daily facial cleanser.

When I finally felt clean and relaxed I turned the shower off and grabbed a fluffy white towel, drying my body and hair. I hung my towel before slipping on my fluffy pink robe.

I swiped the fog away from my mirror. I looked a bit tired, but I'm sure I looked much worse covered in tomato juice. I combed out my long hair before pulling it into a loose side braid. I then proceed to moisturize my skin and face and brush my teeth. I move out of the room before approaching my clothing drawers. I pull on a clean bra and pair of underwear, as well as a simple pair of black yoga pants and a loose white tank top. I leave my shoes here, not bothering with the restrictive footwear before leaving my room, heading to the main room of the TARDIS.

No Doctor.

"Doctor?" I call.

No responce.

I look through a few rooms, calling out his name several times before giving up on my search.

Only when my stomach began to make noise did I realize I haven't had a proper meal in quite some time.

"Alright," I speak to myself. "let's find the kitchen." Standing a random hallway, I look around, unsure of where to begin. "TARDIS?" I ask hopefully. A soft vibration shook my feet in reply before stopping. Unsure of what that meant, I stepped forward, opening the door to find the kitchen. "Oh, you beautiful thing you." I mutter stroking her walls. Again, she vibrated in contentment.

I step towards the fridge and looked through it's contents. It was stocked well for an appliance that doesn't get much use. I decide to use the bread on the counter and make a simple turkey sandwich. I find a bag of chips in the cabinets and a can of coke in fridge as well.

I eat my meal quickly before cleaning up and walking to my room that the TARDIS conveniently placed in front of the kitchen now.

I decide to do something to occupy my time while waiting for the Doctor and paint my nails. I remove the red color from my fingers and toes before painting them a soft blue color.

I again checked for the Doctor before walking to my bedroom once again.

I made the bad decision to get under my covers while waiting for him and fell asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Please let me know what you think by reviewing and following!**

I'm not sure how long I slept.

But I suppose once you travel with the Doctor, time becomes irrelevant.

When I woke I decided I wanted to take my time getting ready.

I washed my face and brushed my teeth before looking over my hair. Overall, the loose braid held strong, with the exception of a few fly-aways. I flattened the stray hairs, still allowing a few locks to slip from the style, adding to a messy look.

I found makeup stored in a small drawer set and makeup brushes standing in a simple mug on my vanity, organized the way I liked.

I played around with the products, some of which I knew must have come from a different world or different time from what I was used to.

I ended up with a simple look; clear skin, healthy cheeks, black lashes, and a deep ruby lip color made up my look.

I dressed in a loose and thin baby blue sweater. The neckline was wide enough to show my collarbones without slipping off my shoulder. I tucked the shirt into a full royal blue skirt that landed mid-thigh, a bit short for traveling with the doctor, but I decided to risk it anyway.

Before exiting my room I sprayed on a bit of some foreign perfume that smelled sweet of passionfruit and blood oranges.

I pulled on a pair of plain white keds before walking outside my room to the center of the TARDIS.

From the moment I stepped out of my room, I knew this was definitely a different version of the TARDIS.

The walls were illuminated by bright circular lights and and less of the TARDIS' mechanics were exposed.

The room felt bare and open, something completely different from the TARDIS she was just in moments ago.

I didn't really think. I just did.

I've always been too curious for my own good.

It's a character flaw.

I walked outside of the TARDIS, not knowing what I would find.

"You're saying this in UNIT HQ, but years before I knew it?"

"Yes."

I stepped around two large ancient egyptian coffins to see a young Sarah Jane Smith and a colorfully scarfed Doctor.

This is early in his lifetime.

Well, earlier than I have been.

I instantly recognized this to be the first segment of the 'Pyramids of Mars' episodes.

I quickly tried to remind myself of everything that would happen, but could only seem to remember the more basic plot line, rather than important details.

"But it's so different. It can't be the same house." Sarah Jane spoke, looking around the room.

"It must be the old priory. The UNIT house was built on the site." The 4th Doctor's deep voice filled the room as he turned to walk past Sarah Jane. I quickly felt a rush of panic and hid around the corner of their sight, standing behind a coffin.

"The old priory was burnt down, wasn't it?"

"Something's very wrong."

"Doctor, I don't like it here."

"Something's going on contrary to the laws of the universe. I must find out what." They both walk past my hiding spot to the door. "Are you coming, Alice, or do you just plan to stand there and stare at me all day?"

He was flirting.

The Doctor was most definitely flirting.

With me.

"Did I breathe too loudly, shuffle too much, step on a twig?" I ask, stepping from my spot as he and Sarah Jane turn to me.

"No." There is a twinkle in his eyes as he answers this.

"Then what? How did you know I was here?"

"I always know when you are near." No twinkle, no flirting tone to his voice. He was serious. But just as quickly as the serious came, the bright glimmer returned to his eyes as he flashed me a large, beautiful smile. "You also left the TARDIS door open. Nearly 100 years and you still don't remember to close the door."

My face flushed at this, making the Doctor chuckle. I turn to close the door, but the TARDIS seemed to have done it for me.

The Doctor then turned to open the door to find it locked. He pulled at it a few times, but the door wouldn't budge.

"Why bother to lock an internal door?" He asks.

"Maybe this wing of the house isn't in use. It smells musty enough." Sarah Jane suggests.

"Wait." I speak suddenly. They both look to me as I speak in a whisper. "100 years?"

The Doctor looks at me, analyzing me before slowly turning to Sarah Jane, ignoring my question. "That isn't all must, Sarah. Some of it's mummy. French picklock. Never fails. Belonged to Marie Antoinette. Charming lady. Lost her head, poor thing."

Someone begins to unlock the door from the opposite side our current location. The Doctor stands erect, dashing away from the door, and grabs my hand, pulling me toward the original section of the room we arrived at. Sarah Jane quickly follows.

The Doctor looks to see who entered before he let go of my hand and began talking. "Of course, it would make an ideal headquarters for some paramilitary organisation. This room could easily be turned into a laboratory." A man dressed in butlers wear entered the room. "Oh, hello." The Doctor addressed him.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?" The Butler asks.

"Through the window. I understood the property was for sale. No?"

"Ah, you're not fooling me, sir. You came with Doctor Warlock, didn't you."

"Did we?"

"He asked you to scout round whilst he kept his nibs busy. Listen, if you're a friend of Doctor Warlock, sir, tell him to watch out."

"Watch out for what?" Sarah Jane asks.

"The Egyptian. There's no knowing what he might do. He's got the temper of the devil himself." The Butler answers.

"Egyptian, eh? Is this where he keeps his relatives?" I softly giggle at the Doctors quip, earning a sharp glance from the Butler, quickly shutting me up.

"It's no joke, sir. He's only been here a few days. I wouldn't be staying, but, well, situations aren't easy to find at my age."

"What are you afraid of?"

"He locked this wing. He didn't know there was a second key. If he were to find me along here, let alone you two, he'd go stark raving mad, sir."

"I see. In that case, we'd better leave."

The Butler stops us from walking through the room. "Oh, not this way, sir. Better go the way you came. He might see you."

"As you wish." The Doctor answers, walking towards the window.

"And remember to tell Doctor Warlock what I said, sir."

"Don't worry. I'll remember." The Doctor agrees before jumping out of the window, first helping Sarah Jane out, and then offering me a hand as well.

I grasp his hands tightly, jumping forward to the ground.

As I landed, my knees bent, bringing me close to falling, as the Doctor pulled me to his chest, helping me remain standing.

I grasped his shoulders, mindful of the two long arms wrapped around my back, as I slowly stood, righting myself. I looked up to see his warm face smiling brightly at me. This version of the Doctor was just under a foot taller than me, strong, and beautiful. His blue eyes always seemed to shine as he looked at me with care. I was helpless, all I could do was smile back at him.

Without saying a word, his arms unwrap from my waist, grabbing my hand in one of his own before grasping Sarah Jane's as well.

He led us around the building, crouching suddenly once we reached windows. As we passed each window, the sound of two male voices became clearer. We followed their words until we reached the window to the room they were in. The Doctor slowly approached the window while Sarah Jane and I listened a few feet back.

"Utter humbug. That letter's a bogus fabrication if ever I saw one." One man says.

"Are you alleging that it is forged?" The other replies.

"I am, sir, and I intend to prove it."

"I warn you, Doctor Warlock, do not interfere."

"Are you threatening me?"

"It is not I who threaten. There are ancient powers gathering in this place. Powers beyond the comprehension of unbelievers."

"Ancient balderdash. Now let me warn you, Namin. Unless you give me some straight answers, I'm going to the police."

"To say what? That a foreigner is living in Professor Scarman's house?"

"To say that he's not been seen for weeks. That his baggage is lying unclaimed in his hotel. Oh, yes, I've had some enquiries made in Cairo."

A man's scream breaks their conversation.

"What the devil?"

Once we hear that the two men have run from the room, The Doctor enters the room before helping Sarah Jane and I in.

We follow their voices to the room we arrived in.

We listened as one man told the other he should have left when the memory of the gunshot hit me. I quickly hit The Doctor's arm to tell him. He turned to me sharply, his expression one of mock offense, before becoming serious at my look of panic. I point to the room, making no sound, and mimed a gun shot with my hands. The Doctors eyes went wide in alarm before he approached the door, scarf in hands, ready to attack. Just as the gun holder fires, the Doctor wraps his scarf around his torso, pulling him to the floor.

As the Doctor holds him down, Sarah Jane and I quickly helped Warlock out the door, with the Doctor on our tail.

Warlock was shot in the chest, bleeding profusely. I made him press his hand against his wound to try and slow down the bleeding. As we exited the room, he was resting most of his weight on me, evidently slowing me down and nearly crushing me, before the Doctor took him off my shoulder, and practically carried him outside of the castle and into the gardens.

"It's no good, I can't go much further." Warlock speaks, tired.

"You must. We're sitting ducks if we stay here." The Doctor asserts.

"Get to the lodge. Tell Laurence."

"Who is Laurence?" I ask. Following close behind should they need help.

"Marcus Scarman's brother. He live there. Knows me." Warlock collapses to the ground. I quickly rush to his side opposite Sarah Jane. I stroke his head, hoping to provide some sort of comfort to the man.

"He needs help, Sarah. You go on ahead, find the lodge." The Doctor turns to me. I could see it in his eyes that he was going to suggest the same for me, but I furrowed my brows at him, wordlessly informing him I'd be staying with him. His eyebrow quirks before nodding and leaving the suggestion unspoken.

"What about you and Alice?" Sarah Jane asks, concerned.

"We'll be alright." He answers for us.

"Okay." Sarah Jane runs from to garden to the woods as the Doctor lifts Warlock into his arms.

"Hmm." I appreciate his feat of strength. The Doctor noticed the small impressed sound and smiled widely at me confidently, no doubt inflating his ego.

He begins walking to the woods as I followed. I kept close to him, grabbing the back of his jacket slightly to keep up with him.

We walk in silence, the Doctor mindful of going to safety while I looked around us fiercely, looking for the mummy-like creatures that would find us soon.

When I spotted one through the trees, I tugged gently on the Doctor's jacket, gaining his concerned glance. I pointed to the location of the mummy.

Now alarmed, the Doctor led us to hide within a sunken section of land, just under a large fallen tree. The Doctor and I helped to lay Warlock down on the ground as the Doctor quickly fell to lay next to him. Before I could move, the Doctor grabs my wrist and pulls me against his chest.

My gut instinct was to roll off of him, but as I heard the mummy and the shooter near, I simply bury my head into his scarf, trying to silence my deep breaths.

The close proximity was enough to make me blush. His scent was similar to that of his 10th self, clean, crisp, and ancient; but there was a warmth about him that even ran through his scent.

His arms tightened around me, rendering me motionless as the shooter was mere feet away. His chin rest against my head as he kept my body cradled in his own.

"The All Powerful descends. O noble god, your servant hears you." The shooter speaks before turning and leaving the woods, the mummy going with him.

I stand after he leaves just as Sarah Jane rushes through the overgrown grass with Laurence in tow.

Laurence exclaims as he reaches Warlock, "Oh, my dear chap. Is he badly hurt?"

"He'll be alright if we can staunch the bleeding." The Doctor answers, standing.

"We'd better get him back to the lodge."

"Doctor, listen. I saw a mummy. A walking mummy!" Sarah Jane speaks amorously and the Doctor and Laurence help Warlock stand.

"Mummies are embalmed, eviscerated corpses. They don't walk." The Doctor replies, tossing me his hat as we begin to walk to the lodge.

"But this one did!" Sarah Jane looks to me for help and I simply shrug, knowing they truly aren't mummies after all.

"Never mind about that now."

We follow Laurence as he leads us to the lodge. Sarah Jane quickly jumps into action as Laurence and the Doctor help him sit on the couch. She helps to put a sling on his right arm and then covers him with a blanket, helping him get comfortable.

As Laurence stands, the Doctor and I lean against a desk next to Laurence's invention. I place the Doctors hat on his head, earning a small smile of thanks.

"Just try and rest, then." Sarah Jane tells Warlock.

"Well, in view of what you've told me, I'm going to fetch the police." Laurence is begins for the door.

"No!" The finality in his tone stops Laurence from moving. "This is much too grave a matter for the police, Mister Scarman."

"Too grave?"

"Yes. They'd only hamper my investigation." The Doctor has turned towards the desk now, his voice deeper and more concentrated, indicating he was deep in thought.

"Your investigations?"

"Yes. Why do you think I'm here? Something's interfering with time, Mister Scarman, time is my business."

"Who are you?" He doesn't answer, but Sarah Jane does.

"Well, I'm Sarah Jane Smith. I'm a journalist."

"Journalist? Who are your companions?"

"My companions? Oh, that's just the Doctor and Alice Fitzgerald. We travel in time, Mister Scarman. I'm really from 1980."

"And I'm really from 2013." I interject, choosing to leave out the alternate universe bit.

"That is utterly preposterous, Miss Smith, Miss Fitzgerald."

"Yes. Sorry." Sarah Jane mumbles.

"Interesting contraption." The Doctor sits, observing Laurence's invention. I jump from my spot on the desk to lean over the Doctors shoulder, gaining a closer look at it.

"Kindly leave that alone, sir. That apparatus is delicately adjusted, and furthermore is a receiver containing highly dangerous electrical current." Laurence steps towards the Doctor.

"Yes, so I see. What year is this?"

"What year?"

"It's a simple enough question, surely."

"Are you telling me you don't know what-"

"If I knew I wouldn't ask. Don't be obtuse, man."

"Nineteen hundred and eleven."

A smile crosses the Doctor's features. "Ah. Splendid. An excellent year. One of my favourites. Yes. I really must congratulate you, Mister Scarman."

"On what?"

"Inventing the radio telescope forty years early."

"That, sir, is a Marconiscope. It's purpose-"

"Is to receive radio emissions from the stars."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Well, you see, Mister Scarman, I have the advantage of being slightly ahead of you. Sometimes behind you, but normally ahead of you."

"I see."

"'m sure you don't, but it's very nice of you to try. Now, why don't you show me how this gadget works?"

"Do you mean you want me to-"

"Please. Just a little demonstration."

We stand back as Laurence flips a few switches and pulls a lever, causing the wheel to begin spinning.

"Amazing. That's really amazing."

Laurence tries to stop the machine, but the wheel only gains speed in its spinning.

"I can't switch it off!" Laurence exclaims before the bulb explodes, catching fire, and then dying down to gray smoke.

Sarah Jane laughs as the Doctor removes his hat, fanning away the smoke, before throwing it to the side, ruffling his hair, and then moving closer to the failed machine.

"It's never done that before." Laurence speaks.

"Fascinating. A regular pattern repeated over and over again." The Doctor notes.

"Like an SOS?" Sarah Jane asks.

"I wonder. Where was your aerial tuned?"

Laurence answers, perplexed. "Mars. Why?"

"I just thought I'd verify the signal."

The Doctor reaches into his pocket and grabs a small radio, extending the antenna.

"What's that you have, Doctor?" Laurence looks intruiged at the small contraption.

"Well, in principle it's exactly the same as the gadget you've invented, only less cumbersome. Yes, it is the same signal. Obviously automatic. Well, if it's a message, it shouldn't be difficult to decipher. They'd want to make it easy." The Doctor answers before taking down notes.

"Who would?" Laurence asks.

"Whoever transmitted it." I smile at Sarah Janes response.

"Now, let's see. This pattern recurs three times in one line. Let's call that E, the commonest letter in the language."

"Beware Sutekh." I say quietly, remembering the cryptic phrase.

"Bew-" The Doctor stopped and looked at me, eyes slightly narrowed. "Well, yes, Beware Sutekh, but how did you know that?"

My face drained.

Apparently he doesn't know of how I got here. Or that I'm from another world. Or how I know what I know.

Meaning that he has apparently known me for 100 years and I've kept a secret from him.

For 100 years.

"Sutekh?" Sarah Janes asks.

A pregnant pause of silence fills the room.

The Doctors eyes remain locked with mine as I look him head on, showing him that I was not nervous nor guilty, even though I was internally shaking.

His eyes narrowed that much further.

Suddenly, the look was gone and he turned to Sarah Jane.

"Better known to you as Set?"

Shit.

He won't be letting this go anytime soon.

"Of course, Egyptian mythology. Set or Sutekh was one of their gods. He was killed by Horus, god of light." Sarah Jane informs us.

"Yes, but Egyptology and Mars?" Laurence asks.

"If I'm right, the world is facing the greatest peril in its history." The Doctor's voice is grave with sorrow.

He stands abruptly, stalking to the door.

"Hey, wait for me!" Sarah Jane calls as both she and Laurence try to follow him. I simply stay motionless, following him with my eyes.

"No." The Doctor turns to her. "The forces that are being summoned into corporeal existence in that house are more powerful and more dangerous than anything even I have ever encountered. Stay here." He then looks to me, standing motionless, his eyes trying to convey some sort of message or emotion I couldn't decipher.

There was one emotion I could see though.

Hesitance.

Hesitance to trust me.

He knows I've been lying to him, or will lie to him, about something, and I can see it's eating at him.

The only emotion I can seem to convey to him is guilt.

"I've an old hunting rifle that might come in useful." Laurence suggests.

"I never carry firearms." The Doctor says curtly before leaving.

Laurence walks briskly to the gun mounted over the fireplace, grabbing it as Sarah Jane and I were nearly out the door, ready to follow the Doctor. "What I meant was that I should feel better if I could bring it."

"Bring it" Sarah Jane states.

We take the quickest path to the castle we could, remaining mindful of the possible mummies lurking throughout the forest.

We snuck into the priory and look through the corridor seeing the Doctor standing outside the cracked study door. When the Doctor sees us, he quickly gestures us to leave, but true to Companion Fashion, we join him in spying on the shooter and the mummies.

"Master, at last you are here. I, Ibrahim Namin, and all my forebears have served you faithfully through the thousands of years that you have slept. We have guarded the secret of your tomb." Namin kneels before a figure cloaked in all black.

"Stand. Look upon my face." The figure speaks evenly.

"Great One, Lord Sutekh, I dare not."

"Look." The figure suggests. Namin slowly looks up to see the shining black helmet of the figure before him. "Is this the face of Sutekh?"

Namin pleas, "Master, spare me. Spare me. I am a true servant of the great Sutekh."

"I am the servant of Sutekh. He needs no other."

The figure places its hands on Namin's shoulders, causing screams to rip from Namin's throat as smoke rose from his skin

"Die. I bring Sutekh's gift of death to all humanity."


End file.
